


An Exercise In Frustration

by ArgylePirateWD



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Omegaverse, Barebacking, Employer/Employee, Hurt/Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, References to Potential Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:44:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/pseuds/ArgylePirateWD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An ill-timed death throws Henry's mating cycle out of order. Fortunately, he has a very willing friend to help him get himself under control again when he goes into heat, no strings attached.</p><p>But Henry's never been very good at keeping strings from attaching, especially when mating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Exercise In Frustration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZombieKisses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieKisses/gifts).



A hot, familiar prickling crept from his groin, up his spine, into a part of his brain he preferred to ignore. A dull, empty ache settled low in his abdomen. The rest of his body woke up, nerves tingling to life, skin and muscle and bone on edge, waiting. Ready.

Henry forced himself to breathe. _In through the nose_ , taking in a disorienting number of smells—antiseptics, chemicals, blood and decay and nitrile gloves, colognes and perfumes and bodily fluids, soaps and stomach contents and even metallic scalpels and tables, himself, his need. He was burning up. The morgue was cold as always, but he was sweating profusely—starting to feel overheated, even. _Out through the mouth_.

Beside him, Lucas perked up, sniffing the air. Eyes widened, darkened. Nostrils flared. Face flushed. An almost inaudible gasp of surprise, and the scent of arousal wafted to Henry's nose, thick and heady and primal. Inside his mind, Henry muttered a word he rarely said aloud—a sharp, vehement _fuck_.

Blast it all, he was going into heat. And it wasn't going to be an easy one.

"You okay?" Lucas asked.

Damn. Henry'd thought he'd taken his emergency suppressants in time. Death tended to throw off his cycle, yes, but rarely to this extent. Modern medicine usually had a good handle on this unpleasant biological quirk. It wasn't perfect, but it had been years since his medication had failed him like this—to the point he couldn't push forward and ignore it.

"Henry?" Lucas said. "Dr. Morgan?"

"Hm?" Henry glanced up, momentarily confused, then remembered what Lucas had been asking and shook off his bewilderment. Mechanically, he took off his apron, set his scalpel aside, snapped off his gloves. "Yes, I'm fine," he said, keeping his voice remarkably steady. It wouldn't stay that way long. Hyperawareness was already taking hold, making his hands tremble, making his clothes feel too heavy and tight on his skin, every brush of fabric agonizing. "But I need to head home early, I'm afraid. I'm, um..."

Oh, there was no excuse that would work. Biology made certain of that. Lucas was an alpha, and could certainly recognize the signs of estrus—and was definitely recognizing them.

"Right!" Lucas said. "Yeah. Do you, um. Do you need any help or anything?" When Lucas realized the implication, his eyes grew big. "Not, you know, _that_ kind of help! That would be, um." He started to reach up to rub his neck, then dropped his bloodied hand back to the corpse. "I just. Alphas, you know? Some of them can be...aggressive."

Henry bristled. "I can handle aggressive alphas, thank you," he snapped, while his traitorous mind conjured vivid pictures of the unintended meaning of "help," images of him giving in to his animal urges, of him bent over an autopsy slab or his desk while getting enthusiastically buggered by Lucas. His _employee_.

Dear God, he needed to leave now, before his body embarrassed him further. "I'll fetch, ah, one of the other ME's, and have one of them take over, all right?"

Pulling himself away from Lucas was physically painful. Every inch of him ached to press himself against the nearest alpha, to align his body along Lucas's lanky frame. His hormones didn't give one whit about Lucas's "world's worst alpha" proclamations. The smell of every accidental touch between them clung to him, lingering on his clothes and his skin. His mouth went dry.

Mating would end the torture almost instantly. An evening spent knotted to an alpha, and unless he got pregnant, he could—in theory—get on with his life. In practice, well. That was the sort of entanglement he did not want to deal with.

 _Hands_ , he told himself sternly. _Wash up. You've pushed through your heat before_. Heat suppressants were a new luxury for him—luxury, not necessity. Scrubbing his hands clean was a necessity. Avoiding having sex with his assistant, his _friend_ was a necessity. He'd made it two centuries without the medication, and usually resisted giving in to his baser urges when unwed. He could do it again.

But it was going to be agony. Just leaving the building was going to be agony. So many people trying to adhere to the Alpha Ideals became police officers. He'd have to walk past God knew how many of them, fighting the desire to rip off his trousers and present them his rear—an awful idea that made his insides go tight with pure want, that made his breath catch and his heart pound.

He let out a shuddering breath, and turned off the water. _Get out of here_ , he told himself. _Call Abe, and get out of here._

Except Abe was away with one of his paramours, and would be unavailable for most of the week. Damn. Sensory overload would set in soon. His mental status was going to go downhill very fast. Heat wasn't an emergency. It didn't compare to another death. He wouldn't call Abe.

He couldn't make it home on his own, either. If he and Jo were on better terms at the moment, he'd call her, but the rift between them left behind by Adam's pugio was still a gaping chasm between them. She'd barely exchanged any personal words with him in weeks, quite understandably. Her continued willingness to work with him was far more than he deserved.

She would probably help him if he asked, yes. Jo was a kind person. But, no, he couldn't ask this of her right now, not when it would be another reminder of his frequent deaths and their effects on his life. She'd made it clear she wasn't ready to grapple with his condition just yet, and this was one of its consequences.

Which left him with Lucas.

Swallowing his pride and unease, Henry turned to Lucas, and called out his name.

"Yeah, boss?"

Lucas's voice got under Henry's skin, making him shiver. It took a moment to recapture his train of thought, and to remember that alpha or not, Lucas was _not_ what he wanted. "I need a favor," he said, as he went to Lucas's side. "I think I'm going to need some help after all." He lowered his voice, and forced himself to ask, "Would you...would you mind accompanying me home?" At Lucas's shocked look, Henry amended, "Merely as an escort. My mental state is not at its best at the moment, I'm afraid, and I—"

"Don't worry about it." Though Lucas's expression didn't show it, Henry could sense Lucas's disappointment, and tried to push that realization to the back of his mind. "Yeah, of course I will. Whatever you need."

Once Henry had handed the case over to someone else and he and Lucas had finished cleaning up, he and Lucas headed out to catch a cab. At several points, Lucas had to steer Henry away from the mindless magnetic draw of nearby alphas, from giving in to the scents of interested males and females rattling in his skull. As soon as they were outside, Henry wiped the sweat from his brow, and thanked Lucas profusely.

"Really, you didn't have to do this," Henry said, between panting breaths. New York bombarded him with smells and sounds and sights, all colliding and conflicting with one another, leaving him light-headed. The hot summer air made it worse. He closed his eyes to block out some of the dizzying array of input, and he held his feet firmly against the sidewalk, trying to keep from swaying too far off balance.

"Why wouldn't I help you?" Lucas asked. "You're my friend—I think—and you're dealing with, you know, a really uncomfortable thing. And—ooh, cab's here."

Henry opened his eyes just as a taxi pulled to a stop in front of them. They both climbed in, Henry sitting as far away as he could, unable to handle the slightest contact, and he gladly let Lucas give the address to the shop.

The driver seemed to be a beta, thank God; he didn't think he could handle another alpha in the enclosed space. But traces of previous passengers lingered—some potent, some not, but some of the alphas... Christ. Henry clenched his legs together, and drew on as much will and decorum as he could muster to resist squirming in his seat in unbecoming ways. Soon, he'd be home, and could freely give in to the urge to thrust his hands in his trousers and masturbate until exhaustion knocked him out.

Another powerful bolt of lust went through him. Oh, thinking of anything that traditionally led to orgasm was a mistake. His cock was painfully hard, a deep and desperate ache between his thighs. He heard Lucas sniffing, and bit back a whimper, face flushing hot with embarrassment.

Lucas leaned over toward him, and murmured in his ear, "Are you okay?" Henry barely managed to nod once, and knew it wasn't convincing. "Do you need—"

" _Yes_ ," Henry hissed. "Lucas, I am so very, very sorry, but, yes, I do need... well, you shouldn't have to guess what it is." His heats hadn't been this bad since the early days with Abigail, when he'd needed her touch so badly he felt like he'd die permanently without it. Every movement, every heartbeat left him more aroused, the mere passage of time sending him into a horrible tailspin. It wasn't supposed to be like this without a partner. This was the suppressant's fault. He was certain of it.

"Hang in there, Henry," Lucas said. "Just a few more minutes. You can make it. And then I can, you know, give you a hand, if... yeah. No strings attached."

Henry choked on the implication. Sex with Lucas. He never would've guessed that someday he'd be seriously contemplating having sex with Lucas. Lucas was a good man, and Henry had grown rather fond of him, but there was no attraction. He'd never even considered it before. And though Lucas had fancied him for a time, he doubted that was still the case. No, this was simply a friend offering another some much-needed assistance. Nothing more.

Except Henry wasn't so certain that would remain true. Separating emotions from sex during heat was not his forte. Too often, he grew attached to the women and men who knotted him—no, that wasn't quite accurate. He fell in love with them. And kind-hearted, odd, overenthusiastic young Lucas was a prime candidate.

He needed to nip this in the bud, despite his hormones' demands.

The driver slammed on the brakes, and Lucas fell against Henry in a sprawl of long arms. Both of them froze, then slowly looked toward each other.

When their eyes met, Henry's heart skipped a beat. He sucked in a sharp breath. Somewhere up front, the driver was honking his horn and yelling obscenities, but Henry didn't care. He could feel every inch Lucas touched simultaneously, nerves delighting in the pressure and warmth, and all he cared about was more.

He barely had to move to bridge the distance between their mouths.

Lucas's lips were soft, a perfect contrast to the rasp of Lucas's facial hair against his own stubble. The kiss was brief and fleeting, yet full of promise. Henry wanted to lose himself in it, to drown himself in the kiss of another, but Lucas pulled away. Henry sent up a prayer of gratitude to a God he didn't quite believe in.

"Probably not the right place for this, huh?" Lucas said, and patted Henry's thigh.

"Definitely not." His voice was shaking, his breathing ragged, and he longed to bury his face in Lucas's scent. Instead, he turned toward the window, and tried to focus on the familiar buildings passing by. Almost there.

* * *

Getting into the shop was an exercise in frustration. He had to let Lucas unlock the door for him, his own hands fumbling too much with the simplest tasks. As soon as he stepped inside, he said, "Terribly sorry about this," and he pressed himself to Lucas's side, propriety be damned, and ground against Lucas's thigh.

"Oh my God," Lucas said, wrapping himself around Henry, taking hold of Henry's bottom in his long-fingered hands and squeezing it, kneading it.

"Not now, Lucas," Henry said, gasping for breath. "Let's go somewhere more private, shall we?"

The stairwell up to the apartment would do nicely, and soon as they were both inside, Henry rounded on Lucas and pinned him to the door with his body, needing the friction on his aching erection, the feel of another's frame against his own, all of it. Lucas grabbed onto Henry's rear again, tugging the two of them even closer, and rolled his hips against Henry's.

Their mouths met in an awkward collision of wet lips and tongues, and any other time, Henry would've enjoyed it. He loved kissing people, loved being kissed, but his heart was ready to burst from the strain of his heat. And Lucas's hands were so very close to the cleft of his buttocks, where Henry was already wet and waiting, and, God, he wanted Lucas inside him so terribly much.

"Trousers," he said, against the corner of Lucas's mouth, and started toeing off his loafers. "We need— _off_. Need these wretched things off."

They were going to have sex. That knowledge hit like a fist to the gut as Henry stepped back to remove his trousers. They were going to mate, going to fuck, probably in here, on the stairs. Oh, God, what was he doing?

Then, he slipped out of his trousers and boxers. Both hit the floor with a muted thump, and the air on his bare legs blew away his reservations. This was good. They were going to mate, and it would be good.

Still, he was a doctor, and no matter how aroused he became, he couldn't escape the knowledge that this was supposed to be for reproduction, for impregnation. Nor could he keep from thinking of safety.

Lucas's mind seemed to be on the same track. "I'm on the A-pill," Lucas said, kicking off his jeans. "And I—I'm clean. You?"

"No diseases," Henry said. He didn't have enough coherency left for the complicated question of his fertility. "Don't know about the other. Mated before, no children." None but Abe, who was adopted, and damn, he did not want to think of Abraham at a time like this.

So he pushed his thoughts aside, and said, "Professional opinion: We should be fine with your pill," as he watched Lucas strip off his briefs, revealing an erection that was much like Lucas himself—tall, thin for an alpha, and a tad awkward looking, with the first signs of a knot at its base. It was the best thing Henry'd seen all day.

Licking his lips, Henry sank down on the stairs, and he leaned onto his back and spread his legs wide for Lucas, presenting his hole. "Now, would you be so kind as to get to it?"

Lucas looked down at him, eyes wide, and a small squeak came from Lucas's throat. "Oh my God," Lucas whispered, clutching the railings on the walls as his gaze followed the length of Henry's body, lingering on his erection. "Oh my God, _Henry_."

Getting their bodies aligned wasn't simple—or comfortable—but Lucas spared him the torture of foreplay. He pushed into Henry's hole, moving in slow, cautious thrusts. But careful friction wouldn't be enough.

"Do it, Lucas," he gritted out. "Please, for the love of God, fuck me."

Lucas's control snapped.

He buried himself nearly to the hilt in Henry, edges of his burgeoning knot slipping in just enough for a tantalizing, burning stretch. Lucas let out a silent cry, pulled back, then _in_ again, hips snapping, body colliding with Henry's, propelled forward with the aid of the banisters. Henry clung to Lucas's shoulders and wrapped his legs tight around him, offering easier access to his hole, and he met Lucas's movements with his own, driving Lucas in and out hard enough to hurt himself, hard enough to feel the most perfect pain. He _wanted_ the pain. The intensity. The heat of that perilous edge between pleasure and agony, like the strike and burn of a match in his brain.

The air was filled with filthy noise—the smack of bodies, the creak of the railings, the obscene, wet sounds of sex. Panting, grunting, helpless little sounds from deep in their throats. The scrape of his clothes and his back on the hard steps below. Christ, he wanted more of it all, more of the harsh smell of sweat, the complex musk of desire mingling with their colognes and other natural scents. The look in Lucas's darkened eyes when their gazes met, intimate and exposed and raw.

"Harder," he begged. "More. I need—Lucas, please." He wanted to be pounded, wanted more of that slick, breathtaking slide of Lucas's cock inside him. He wanted to be filled, impossibly so, wanted to be stretched open to the brink of his physical capabilities. Knotted. Fucked.

Lucas shifted, and found a better angle, one that made Henry's belly go unbearably tight, that made Henry moan low and loud, spurring Lucas on to a hard, punishing rhythm.

"Yes," Henry hissed. His fingers dug into Lucas's shoulders, the only thing tethering him to reality, nails hindered by Lucas's shirt. "Oh, that's—yes." So close to the edge, so close to falling over that blissful precipice, but he couldn't get there yet, no matter how much he wanted to—it wasn't possible. Not until Lucas came.

A warm glow of fondness filled Henry's chest, tangling with the pounding of his heart. Pheromones or reality, he couldn't say. But Lucas's face was compelling, and Henry stared up at it, transfixed by swollen lips and quivering muscles and shining perspiration on red-flushed skin. In this moment, Lucas was beautiful.

"So good for me." Henry managed to let go of a shoulder, and he reached up and cupped Lucas's cheek. Lucas's eyes fell shut, and a small whine came from Lucas's throat. The air between them shifted. Lucas's scent changed, became deeper, hotter, full of affection—for Henry. This wasn't a matter of convenience anymore. No, it never had been. "Lucas, thank you."

Lucas was close—muscles trembling, rhythm erratic, hands slipping on the railings, losing their grip. Henry clenched around Lucas's cock, and Lucas swore quietly. With a burst of pride, Henry squeezed tighter, smirking at Lucas's broken, incoherent groans.

"Come on," Henry rasped. "Come on."

Lucas did, letting out a strangled, breathy noise as his knot locked them together and he came. Heightened senses let Henry experience it all—the hot pulses, the come spilling inside him, the firm knot swelling fully inside him, filling him.

There was nothing like making someone else come first. That he required it for his own heat release didn't matter. It was exquisite, transcendental, an exhilarating rush of his own powerful influence on Lucas's body and mind intertwined with the joy of giving someone pleasure as he received his own. He arched into it, seeking more, even as the thrusts of the still-hard cock inside him slowed to sporadic jerks.

Breathless and spent, Lucas sagged down atop him, trapping Henry's cock between their clothed bellies. From there, it wasn't difficult for Henry to get the stimulation he craved. Instead of luxuriating in the building, spreading warmth in his gut as hormones took hold, Henry canted his hips, taking shameless advantage of the weight of Lucas atop him, getting himself closer and closer.

Lucas let out a small huff of a laugh, and a tiny, sheepish, "Sorry," and he licked a broad, wet swipe along his palm and slipped a hand between them, before curling his long fingers around Henry's length.

"Oh, Christ." Henry's hand fell from Lucas's face and balled in the fabric of his tee as he was surrounded by Lucas's tight grasp. Lucas held on as Henry fucked into the damp grip, perfect pressure that was almost too much, or maybe Henry was just too close to the end to tell the difference. Sounds poured from Henry's mouth, tumbling over each other like the tumult in his brain, and whether they were coherent was anyone's guess. This was exactly what he wanted, what he needed, the fullness of an alpha inside him and the torturous hold on his cock.

His lungs couldn't get enough air, breath coming in harsh, open-mouthed pants as his pulse drowned out damn near everything else, everything but the gorgeous friction around him. He'd thought he'd been overwhelmed before Lucas entered him, but he was wrong. _This_ was overstimulation, the world narrowing down to one incandescent sensation building in his belly and nerves, threatening to rend him to shreds, until— _there_.

He crashed. Orgasm took over, throwing his head back and tearing a shout from his throat, flooding his veins with relief as he came undone, coming hard all over Lucas's hand and the space between them. Henry surrendered to it, submitting to high of release until it hit its peak, until it left him open-mouthed and gasping and wrecked, lying boneless on the stairs.

Neither of them spoke. Henry let his legs fall from their hold on Lucas, and the two of them stayed slumped against each other, dazed and sucking in air, bound by Lucas's knot. Lucas buried his face awkwardly in the curve of Henry's neck, and splayed his wet hand low on Henry's belly. Absently, Henry wondered if it was intentional, if Lucas or his biology was hoping for conception, or if he merely had no idea what to do with it. Either way, Henry couldn't be bothered to care. He was so very tired, and the extra touch was nice. Comforting.

So he let himself relax, let himself enjoy the blanketing weight of Lucas, let his hands roam and drift along the plane of Lucas's back as he waited for time to restore their energy. Soon his body would complain about their unpleasant position. Already, the steps digging into his flesh were starting to call attention to themselves. But it was still tolerable, and neither the implications of this new reality nor a renewed influx of heat plagued his mind quite yet.

"You okay, Henry?" Lucas asked, voice muffled against Henry's neck, hot breath wringing a half-hearted shiver from him.

Henry considered the question. Then, he decided to answer honestly. "Yes," he said. "I believe I am. For now."

He felt Lucas grin, and he chuckled.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing A/B/O, so: concrit definitely welcome


End file.
